


Volt: Twin Prodigies

by Vicc125



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29475675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicc125/pseuds/Vicc125
Summary: For as long as Vale has existed, it has been protected. The Huntsmen and Huntresses of Beacon Academy have repelled the Grimm for nearly a century. Before them, the mighty retinues of the King's army held the borders. Yet even they were not the first.The Volt family has stood in defense of Vale since the first King was crowned. They have been rulers and knights. Warriors and soldiers. Now, they serve as Huntsmen and Huntresses. It is family legacy that has endured, unbroken, for centuries.Now, it falls upon Richard and Ashelyn to take up arms, and protect their ancestral home. Vale has become fragile. The Kingdom is on the cusp of an insurrection, and the foundations of power that have held the nation together are at risk of crumbling. Survival comes only through unity. If Vale plunges into civil war, it will bring the Grimm.And that means The End.It is a problem far too big, and far too complex for two teenagers to handle. But they are the scions of the Volt family. When Vale is in need, they answer the call. Always.





	1. Brace For Impact

A loud slap echoed in the airship bathroom that Richard Volt currently occupied. He lowered his hand, and let out a breath, inspecting himself in the mirror. Short black hair, brushed backwards, pale skin marred by a new red mark, and dark blue eyes. He was the spitting image of his father, a man filled with so much confidence that no one ever doubted him. Richard wished he could say that for himself.

Instead, here he was, hyping himself up in the bathroom. Instead of mingling with other prospective students, Richard was preparing his addled nerves for his first day at Beacon Academy. Beacon! The premier training academy in all of Vale, and maybe even Remnant at large. This was where the best of the best finished their education to become Huntsmen and Huntresses. So what was he doing here? Hiding in the bathroom, where no one could witness his anxiety.

Just like a real Huntsman.

The airship lurched, and Richard went along with it, bracing his hand against the sink to avoid headbutting the mirror. He heard the beeping of the loudspeaker in the common area, signaling that the pilot was about to broadcast something, but the closed door behind him muffled words far too much to be understood. He wasn’t concerned, it was probably just some turbulence.

With one last sigh, Richard pushed himself off the sink. He did a quick pat down of his jeans, satisfied that neither his scroll nor his wallet had fallen out of his pocket, and grabbed his grey zip hoodie off the hook on the back of the door. He tugged it on over his blue v-neck, zipped it, and reached for the bastard sword leaning against the wall. With all his belongings firmly in his possession, Richard pushed the door open with his free hand.

Striding out, he offered an awkward apology to the guy that had been waiting on him, some odd brunette dude wearing a leather jacket and no shirt, and made a beeline for one of the windows. The view that awaited him was, on its own, almost worth all the anxiety he was dealing with. With a beautiful blue sky, the sun’s light illuminated the city of Vale, and Richard spotted a couple of landmarks. He smiled, and his mood lightened a bit. He couldn’t quite explain it, but Richard loved the sight of his home from the air.

“If you’re looking for our house, you should head over to the port side windows.”

Calm and gentle, the voice seemed to waft to his ears. Richard cocked an eyebrow, and turned his gaze to the source of the noise: his twin sister. Hair, as black as his own, was tied up in a high ponytail that fell past her shoulders. She was adorned in a red gi top with no sleeves, dark brown cotton pants, and knee high boots of the same color. Green eyes, with a hint of concern, met his own. 

Richard rolled his eyes, “thanks Ashe, I had absolutely no idea where we lived.”

“You always were a little directionally challenged.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Richard swung his sword strap over his head, and tugged at it to ensure that the hilt stuck out over his right shoulder. Ashelyn wrinkled her nose at the motion.

“That’s not how you wear a sword.”

“Correction: this isn’t how you and dad wear a sword,” Richard gestured to where Ashelyn’s curved broadsword hung from her left hip, “but it suits me just fine. Not to mention that I don’t smack people with my scabbard when I turn too fast.”

Ashelyn seemed to let the comment slide, as she leaned against the window and changed the subject, “you’re nervous.”

“Is it that obvious?” 

“You just spent fifteen minutes locked up in the bathroom.”

Richard smirked, “maybe I just really had to go?”

Ashelyn’s brow furrowed at him.

“Alright,” Richard surrendered, “yeah, I’m nervous. Who wouldn’t be?”

“I’m not,” Ashelyn spoke softly, “and you shouldn’t be. You passed the Entrance Exam with flying colors, same as me.”

“Not all of us inherited Dad’s unshakable confidence, Ashe,” Richard turned back to the view, “this is Beacon we’re talking about! This could make or break my chances at becoming a Huntsman!”

“It’s just orientation today, Richard,” Ashelyn laid a hand on his shoulder, “so breathe.”

Richard took her advice, and let his lungs fill with air. Today would be simple; it was just a tour around the grounds, and a meeting in the auditorium. Tomorrow he’d deal with Initiation, whatever that entailed. He exhaled, slowly. Ashelyn was right, getting worked up wouldn’t help at all. His fears for the future weren’t alleviated, but for right now, he could put them on the back burner.

Richard nodded, “yeah, yeah I’ll chill.”

“Good,” Ashelyn dropped her hand from his shoulder, “now come help me find a vending machine. I’m thirsty.”

He let Ashelyn lead the way, following her from a pace behind. Not surprisingly, she seemed to know the layout of the ship, as she navigated them down a flight of stairs to the lower deck without so much as a curious glance at their surroundings. Ashelyn was always the first person to get her bearings in new environments, even in unassuming ones like the metal tin can they were flying in. She probably scoped out the ship during boarding; before they took to the air.

That, or she found a map.

It wasn’t long after entering the more open cargo hold, far more sparsely populated than the observation deck above, that Richard spotted what his sister was looking for. Funny enough, she didn’t seem to pay it much mind.

“Ashe, there’s one on that wall.”

“That one only has soda,” she informed him, “I’m looking for juice.”

“Where’s the vending machine with juice at?”

“I don’t know. That’s why you’re helping me look for one,” Ashe did even bother looking back at him.

“You know there are probably more vending machines upstairs than down here,” Richard frowned, “one’s that probably have jui-”

Without warning, a deafening boom thundered throughout the airship. The craft shuddered violently, and Richard toppled into Ashelyn’s back. Together, they went careening into the metal flooring below, with Ashe taking the brunt of the impact. Richard rolled off of her, wincing as he heard the tell tale sound of metal screeching across more metal. The ship shook again, only this time the shuddering didn’t cease. It vibrated with so much intensity that Richard could feel it in his bones, and his stomach dropped once he understood what was happening.

The airship was beginning to tilt, bow pointed closer towards the ground. They were falling out of the sky!

A rough grip on his bicep hauled him to his feet. Richard looked to Ashe, now pulling him after her, as she sprinted for the stairs back up to the observation deck. They made it about ten feet before their attempt to run ended in failure, as their aircraft jolted yet again, sending them crashing onto their butts yet again. The ship’s bow tilted further down, sending them sliding across the deck, only stopping when their backs smashed into the interior wall of the cargo bay.

“Richard! Are you alright?”

He craned his head to his right, to reassure his sister that his Aura hadn’t broken yet. He stopped, however, as his gaze caught on something near the stern wall; the vending machine they’d ignored had toppled forward, and with the tilt of the ship, was sliding towards them at an alarming rate. His eyes bugged out of his head, and Richard did the only thing he could think to do: he kicked his sister with all his might.

“What are you-”

His sneaker made contact with her side, and with the wind knocked out of her, she tumbled a few feet to his right, just out of harm’s way. The screech of metal on metal drew near, and Richard curled up into a ball, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Having spent the little time he had to escape on kicking Ashe away, Richard had no option but to brace himself, and hope his Aura could take the brunt of the vending machine’s impact. Distantly, he heard his sister cry out his name. 

Death by snacks, what a terrible way to go. 

He waited for the blow, but it never came. Instead, Richard felt warmth spread through his body, as if the Summer sun was caressing his skin. He heard the crash; the sound of glass shattering and metal tearing itself apart. The machine hit with so much force, that it had practically exploded. Yet, somehow, it hadn’t hit him. Had he judged its trajectory wrong? He risked opening an eye, and he felt his jaw go slack at what he saw.

A golden glow of energy, formed into a small dome, oscillated around him. The wreckage of the vending machine surrounded him, scattered into warped and irreparable hunks of metal, outside of his protective bubble. Whatever the source of this energy was, it had saved him from being crushed. Richard looked around confused; this wasn’t a product of his Aura, and it certainly wasn’t a product of Ashe’s. So, then, who was responsible?

“Um, hi, you alright?”

Richard snapped his head in the direction of the new voice. Splayed out on her back in what looked like a very uncomfortable position, laying across the bottom few stairs with her hand outstretched in his direction, was a… knight. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, with a few rebellious curls framing her face. Shining silver armor, lined with gold, lay on top of a black cotton bodysuit, and the look was completed by a white cape. But, what captivated Richard, were her bright green eyes.

“....Is that a no?”

It came to Richard’s attention that he was staring. And had been for a little bit longer than acceptable. Figuring that he needed to speak up, and at least acknowledge the fact that this girl had saved him from being crushed by snacks, Richard finally opened his mouth.

“Alright. Yes. I am.”

He could be very profound at times. Thankfully, before things could get really awkward, Richard found himself crushed in Ashelyn’s arms. The air was forced from his lungs, and for a moment Richard wondered if he’d just been saved from a vending machine only to be killed by his own sister. Before his face could turn blue, however, Ashelyn pulled away from him, leaving only her hands on his shoulders in an iron grip.

“You’re fine! Oh thank the Brothers, you’re fine!”

Ashelyn turned to the new girl, and flashed her a smile, “thank you!”

Richard, inspired by his sister’s gratitude, formed a proper sentence this time, “you… saved my life, probably. Thanks, I owe you.”

A faint blush dusted her cheeks, and a radiant smile graced her face, “don’t… don’t mention it. I’m just glad to have-”

The knight was interrupted by the violent groaning of metal. The sound echoed throughout the hold, then stopped abruptly, before being replaced by an ear-shattering crash. Within a moment, Richard found himself airborne, ears ringing, and soaring toward the ceiling. He felt, rather than saw, Ashe lose her grip on him, before he collided with the metal above him. All the while, the ship around him shuddered and jolted in a number of small, oscillating, movements.

As he descended from the ceiling, he managed to catch sight of Ashelyn and the knight. His sister had slammed into the ceiling as he had, and was reaching a hand in his direction. Her lips were moving, but he was still deafened and disoriented, and so couldn’t make out what she was saying. The knight had been ejected from her place on the stairs, but had somehow managed to snag the railing. All of this, Richard had managed to piece together within the few moments he’d been airborne. 

And it came with a sudden realization, that chilled him to the bone: they had made contact with the ground, bounced, and were now skidding along the surface.

It was the last thought that passed through Richard’s head, before the weightlessness caused by the initial impact vanished, and gravity brought Richard headfirst into the bulkhead, and into blackness.


	2. A Happy Landing

Ashelyn woke with a sharp cough, cool metal against her cheek, and a painful inhale of air. Her whole body hurt, as if she’d just finished a training session with dad. Considering that she’d just survived an airship crash, the comparison seemed appropriate. Opening her eyes, she blinked the haze of delirium away, to see the welcoming sight of crunched metal and dust billowing in the air. With the breaks in the metal, revealing small glimpses of trees and shrubbery, Ashelyn figured the cargo bay had seen better days.

“Hey! Hey are you guys okay?!”

A voice shook Ashelyn from her observations, though it wasn’t Richard’s. Propping herself up from her prone position with her arms, Ashelyn turned her head in the direction of whomever was speaking to her. Clinging to the railing of the stairs, was the knight who’d saved her brother. Her name was… well, Ashelyn realized that they'd never gotten the chance to exchange names. Not with the two brushes with death she’d endured in the span of a minute or two.

“I’m okay! Richard, what about you?!”

Silence pervaded the cargo bay, and Ashelyn’s blood ran cold.

“Richard? Richard where are you?”

That time the other girl spoke, and still they heard no answer. Despite the protest of her aching body, Ashelyn forced herself to her feet, and began to scan her surroundings once more. Upon a second look, she realized that the cargo bay was in even worse condition than she’d first assumed. The few crates that had been at the bottom of the hold had tipped and slid across the room, scattering what seemed to be food supplies for Beacon, all over the place. The metal around them had been crunched together, and more than one of the steel beams that supported the interior of the ship had fallen during their crash, punching holes into the metal flooring.

A small sigh escaped her lips. Things could have been a lot worse if they'd been caught under one of those collapsing supports. Except… Ashelyn still couldn’t see Richard among the mess of the cargo. She didn’t want to make any assumptions, but what if he’d actually been caught under one of the supports? Without the knight girl to protect him with that bubble of hers, he’d have been squashed flat, and that meant he’d be-

“RICHARD! RICHARD WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Ashelyn’s pulse was racing, and a lump formed in her throat as she began to scurry around the cargo bay, kicking crates aside. Richard had to be somewhere in the room still. He wasn’t crushed under metal; she wouldn’t allow it. Not fifteen minutes ago, she had promised him that today was going to go fine. That there was no reason for him to be nervous, or worried. Already, she’d failed him in that regard.

She wasn’t going to fail him a second time, by letting him die before they’d even made it to Beacon.

Still, no matter how many crates she pushed or kicked aside, Richard didn’t appear behind them. It didn’t make sense! Sure the cargo bay was decently sized, but not so much so that he should be entirely missing! When the ship had crashed, they’d been no more than ten feet from one another. In theory, that meant he should still be somewhere near-

“I found him!”

The sigh of relief that Ashelyn let out was probably the most audible thing in the room. She spun on her heel to look at the knight, and sure enough, she had Richard slung over one armored shoulder. Ashelyn sprinted over the remains of busted crates to meet her. At a glance, it didn’t look as though her brother had been injured, but the way he was blinking his eyes in a haze concerned her. It was as if he was disoriented.

The knight must have noticed her concern, because she spoke, “I think he may have, um, landed on his head.”

“Hey, my skull has to put in some work, every now and again.”

Clearly he wasn’t disoriented enough to stop making terrible jokes. Ashelyn huffed in annoyance, but secretly was happy that he was well enough to run his mouth.

“Are you okay? And I do mean ‘okay,’ not fighting off a concussion and not telling anyone.”

Richard was quiet for a moment, then, “think my Aura took most of the hit. My head's pounding, but I think I’m fine.”

Ashelyn watched carefully as he extracted himself from the knight’s shoulder, and let herself be satisfied with his self-diagnosis when he didn’t stumble or struggle to stand on his own.

“Thank you,” Ashelyn turned her head to the blond, “I owe you twice now.”

“Not at all,” the knight gave her a small smile and a shake of her head, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah,” Richard butted in, “but you have saved my bacon twice now. So, I mean, at least let me, like, treat you to dinner or something.”

Ashelyn blinked, and the cargo hold was silent aside from the creaking of metal, as she waited for Richard to pick up on the implications of his words.

“Uh,” his eyes went wide, “in a totally platonic, not date way. Like, a ‘thank you’ dinner. You know, as thanks. I mean, I don’t even know your name! So, you know...”

“I… had assumed that was what you meant, yes,” Thalia raised an eyebrow, “you can call me Thalia. I’d be happy to take you up on your very platonic, not date, dinner. That is, once we’re safe.”

Safe. In her panic to find Richard, Ashelyn had almost forgotten that they’d just crash landed. At the moment, they didn’t even know where they were, though Ashelyn had a theory considering the small amounts of autumn colored foliage she could gleam through the breaks in the airship’s hull. Most likely, they had just crash landed in the Forever Fall forest, which brought on a whole load of terrible implications.

So, naturally, that was when a scream pierced their ears.

Before Ashe could stop him, Richard bolted in the direction of the sound, back up the stairs. Gritting her teeth, she made to follow her brother up to the passenger deck of their grounded aircraft. She kept her right hand on the grip of her sword, and with her left, beckoned Thalia to follow. Ashelyn figured that whatever happened next, Thalia would be a big help to them.

As it turned out, Ashelyn was more right than she’d expected.

When they’d bolted up to the passenger deck, she’d expected a similar sight to the cargo hold: busted and warped metal, shattered glass, and maybe the remnants of the vending machines she’d perused earlier. In addition, she also figured that most of the student body would be scattered about the cabin, battered and bruised from the crash. After all, why would they be any better off than the three of them?

What Ashelyn hadn’t expected, however, was the Grimm. Oh sure, they were always going to show up. They were attracted to negative emotions, and an airship crash was a breeding ground for such things. Even so, Ashe hadn’t expected that they’d be encroaching on the downed aircraft so soon. Outside what used to be the windows, she spotted a number of black masses, just barely hidden by the shadows of the trees. They were too far away for her to count just how many Grimm were skirting the crash, but it didn’t look very promising.

The rest of the student body was silent, seemingly paralyzed by their fear.

“We need to move,” Richard said quietly.

“Not with a group this big. Or this afraid,” Thalia replied.

Ashelyn agreed with her consensus. With this many terrified and rattled students, they’d be a big roaming cluster of negative emotions. A group like that would only attract even more Grimm, of a larger and more dangerous variety. Fighting outnumbered, and frankly outclassed, in an environment they weren’t familiar with would be suicide. Their survival odds would be much better if they hunkered down, called for help, and picked off the Grimm before they got close.

“We need to round everyone up,” Ashelyn spoke at last, “get them their weapons, and have them guard the broken windows and entrances.”

“As well as send out and SoS,” Thalia concluded.

“Uh, guys…”

Ashelyn glanced at Richard, noting the worried expression on his face. Then, she realized why: he was holding up his scroll, which very clearly had no connection. Confusion stirred in her mind for a moment; Forever Fall was just outside of Vale, so they were definitely still within the CCT tower at Beacon. His connection should have been fine.

“Maybe it’s just yours,” Ashelyn suggested, “could have gotten damaged in the-”

“Mine too,” Thalia interjected, showing her own scroll.

Ashe pulled her scroll out of her waistband, and confirmed it for a third time; they had no way of calling for help.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Richard sighed, “there’s no way to call for help, so we need to move.”

“That would be suicide, Richard,” Thalia shook her head.

“We can’t stay here forever. The Grimm will be on us any-”

A sharp howl pierced the air, and Ashelyn took another glance out the window. The Grimm were finally leaving the safety of the thicket, enticed by all the raw emotions permeating throughout the ship. They needed a plan, and they needed it now.

“We can do both,” Ashelyn said at last, “the majority of us hunker down here, and focus on keeping the Grimm out. While we do that, a small team could try and sneak past the Grimm, and get back to Vale. Or Beacon. One of the two.”

Richard and Thalia looked at each other, clearly pondering her idea for a moment. Ashelyn waited for one of them to protest; to poke a hole in her clearly fragile plan.

“It’s risky,” Thalia spoke slowly, “but I think it’s our best chance.”

“The team would need to be small,” Richard added, “if we’re looking to avoid Grimm attention. Or, at least avoid it as much as possible.”

“No bigger than four people,” Ashelyn smiled despite the situation, “consider it practical training for our futures.”

She looked past Richard and Thalia, to the rest of their fellow students. Most of them were talking quietly amongst themselves, in harsh whispers with panicked eyes. That didn’t bode well. If they were going to compromise a team of people to leave the ship, then those four had to be firmly in control of their fear, or the mission would end in failure before it even began.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Thalia’s eyes were also on the other passengers, “most of them aren’t in the right mind for the task.”

“Most of them have lost their cool,” Richard frowned, “and I don’t feel like becoming Grimm chow the second we leave the ship.”

“Some of us,” Ashelyn realized “need to stay here to keep everyone organized, and to stop widespread panic.”

The Grimm crept ever closer to the ship, risking broad daylight and allowing Ashelyn to finally see their bulk and numbers. They’d wasted far too much time discussing, and not nearly enough time taking action. It would cost them if they made that mistake for even one minute more.

“Thalia,” Ashelyn turned to the girl, “can you lead the team going back to Vale?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed.

“I’m coming with,” Richard insisted.

Ashelyn wanted to protest, but her eyes glanced to the sword slung over her shoulder, and she understood his reasoning. Richard, so insistent upon immersing himself in swordsmanship, didn’t carry a ranged weapon. He wouldn’t be very helpful in bunkering down and picking off the Grimm before they could reach the ship. He needed to be out in the open to be effective.

“Okay. Thalia, find two more people on your way out, and get going. I’ll rally the troops here, and buy you guys the time you need to get back.”

Ashelyn reached a hand out, and held it between the three of them. Richard placed his hand on hers, and then Thalia mirrored him.

“Let’s not die prematurely, yeah?” the corner of Richard’s lip turned upward.

“We’ll get it done,” Thalia promised.

“Go team.”

With that, Richard and Thalia made for the front of the airship, leaving Ashelyn to coral a metal tub of terrified teenagers by herself.


	3. Bubblegum Thrashin'

As far as fun times went, Blossom Amaranth ranked trekking through the Forever Fall Forest somewhere near the bottom. Her idea of good fun involved baseball bats, broken windows, a little bit of threatening, and looted merchandise. With all the foliage snagging on her clothes, Blossom was going to need some of the latter. Her denim jacket was already worn and old, and covered in way too many patches bearing the labels of her favorite band, but it hadn’t had full blown cuts and tears in it until today. Her pink tank top and black jeans, actually newly stolen, had similar damage.

And don’t even get her started on her hair. Pink, and brushed meticulously, it was now gnarled and probably full of dirt and twigs. Blossom was used to dirt and grime, but of the city variety, in the back alleys of Vale. This crash course in wilderness survival was far outside her comfort zone, and she usually dealt with that kind of stress by taking a drag from a cigarette, or beating some punk’s face in with her baseball bat.

With a bitter thought, Blossom remembered that it was that kind of shit that got her conscripted into Beacon in the first place. 

Shaking those memories from her head, Blossom focused ahead, on her newfound “companions.” The first one was the kind of prissy, noble rich girl she’d like to rob. Except, this one wore full plate armor and had a hammer hanging from her belt. Even if Blossom hadn’t promised her mom she’d behave, she probably would have steered clear of sticking her up. It was easy to rob the odd idiot in Vale, but a huntress-in-training with years more experience in combat? Not worth trying.

Then there was the tanned douchebag that was Cedar Brow. She was overly familiar with him: blond hair that darkened at the ends, storm grey eyes, and a get up that included a white dress shirt, black slacks, black cowboy boots, and a dark brown duster. He was almost the spitting image of his father, the officer that had booked her, and ultimately started her unwilling career as a Huntress. It was actually Cedar, the stupid junior detective, that had put together the evidence his father needed to land her in hot water. His mere presence made her seethe, and it was all she could do to restrain her-

“You need to chill out. Negativity attracts the Grimm, and I’m not interested in getting shredded to pieces today.”

She turned a glare to the last person in their group, who was walking alongside her while Thalia and Cedar took the lead. Compared to them, this guy looked unassuming. He had black hair, deep blue eyes, and pale skin. His get-up was simple, a grey hoodie, blue shirt, and old denim jeans, all as ragged as her own clothing now. He seemed like any schmuck you’d run into on the streets, so nothing like a would-be Huntsman, aside from the sword on his back. Yet, even that looked simple, seemingly lacking the overcomplicated mech-shifting components of modern weapons.

In other words, she could probably take him in a fight.

Richard’s assessment was right, so she opted not to threaten him, “shut it. I don’t need a lecture.”

He was silent for a moment, and then, “you wanna talk about it?”

“What?”

“You’re glaring holes into the back of Cedar’s head, so I figure you’ve got some issues with him. You wanna talk about them?”

“Stay out of my business, or I’ll put a hole in your head,” she lifted her bat off of her shoulder, enough for Richard to divert his attention to it.

“Again. Negativity. Not a great idea,” he didn’t seem to care much for her threat, which irked her.

“Annoying me. Also not a great idea,” she tightened her grip on her bat.

He just shook his head, and looked forward. Part of Blossom was annoyed that he was entirely unaffected by her, or the idea of her beating his head in, but at least he had shut up. At least she’d avoided a lecture; she had enough of those in her life. Still, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Richard had made a fair point. Though not nearly as educated in Huntsman affairs as the other three in her group, even Blossom was aware of how negative emotions could draw the Grimm in. As much as she liked a good brawl, she simply didn’t have the training or experience needed to effectively kill those monsters, and it was best to avoid them all together.

Naturally, that was when the Beowolves appeared. Covered in fur that was midnight black, and bearing bone plating on their faces and a few more of their extremities, a pack of six tore out of the thicket of the Forever Fall forest. They practically descended on the group, moving so fast that Blossom couldn’t keep track of all of them, especially when one rounded on her. Up close it was even more menacing, easily eight feet tall, with a musculature that would make most men jealous. What worried Blossom the most, however, were its jagged teeth and long ivory claws.

She swung her bat, gripped with both her hands, and landed a meaty blow on its jaw. It staggered back, roaring as its bones were crushed by the metal, but it was hardly out of the fight. It lunged at her, broken jaw hanging loosely, whipping an arm around to score a hit with its claws. Blossom tried to step out of its range, but it was too quick. It caught her on the shoulder, flaring up her pink Aura, and sending her crashing to the ground. Pain flared up where it had struck her, but only for a moment, and then it was replaced by a gentle numbing sensation that left a tingle in her skin.

Blossom didn’t have the time to be thankful that her Semblance had kicked in. The Beowolf made to pounce on her, and she threw herself into a roll, narrowly avoiding its claws as they tore up the dirt. She picked herself up off of the ground, just in time to sidestep another blow from the Grimm. She still wasn’t entirely fast enough, as its claw barely grazed her cheek as it passed her. Her face started to numb.

Gritting her teeth, Blossom tightened her grip on her bat, and pressed one of the buttons just above the handle. The small vents halfway down the bat exhaled fire, as Blossom poured her Aura into the powered Dust in the bat. She brought her weapon down on the Grimm’s back, breaking through its gnarly spines, and cracking something in its back. The momentum of her blow was enough to force it down on all fours, and its fur caught fire. Still, the beast wasn’t done yet. It swung its head around to glare at her, a gesture that sent a shiver down her spine.

So she clobbered its head with the bat, and it squealed as both its skull was crushed, and its skin started to burn to crisps. It tried to move once more, to pick itself up, but Blossom walloped it in the jaw one last time, flipping it onto its back where it finally went limp. Black haze rose from the corpse as it started to disintegrate, and Blossom sighed in relief as she realized the thing was finally dead. That had been a little tougher than tumbling in the back alleys of Vale.

Another roar reminded her that she wasn’t done yet. Blossom raised her head to get a look at the rest of the group. Cedar had just finished putting holes in one of the Beowolves with his semi-auto rifle. She watched Thalia push a Beowolf away from her with her shield, before caving another’s skull in with a single mighty blow of her hammer. Blossom started to move toward her, to help her with the other Beowolf, but Cedar quickly put it down with a bullet through the head.

Thalia flashed a smile at Cedar, and Blossom swiveled her head to try and locate the two remaining Beowolves. She found them by Richard. Or, rather, she found the remains of one of them, chopped into three pieces. The other one, still alive, was howling in pain and clutching at the stump of its forearm. It took two steps back from the swordsman, and Blossom almost thought it was backing away in fear, before it lunged at him with its remaining claw.

Richard stood firm, his sword pointed at the ground in a low guard. She opened her mouth to cry out; to tell the idiot to move, but it was a pointless gesture. As the Beowolf neared, his sword flashed upward in a spray of blood, and the Grimm lost its second hand. Before it even had time to register the loss, to roar out in pain, his blade struck in a downward diagonal strike. The white-steel sword cut from shoulder to hip, and the beast topped to the ground in two pieces. Or, four, if you counted its dismembered limbs.

Blossom watched in disguised awe, as Richard twirled his sword and sheathed it, apparently no worse for wear despite being double teamed by Beowolves.

“Nice moves,” it was Cedar who spoke first.

Richard jolted, as if he’d forgotten they were there, “oh! Thanks. Lots of training, you know?”

Blossom didn’t know, having no real training, but Cedar nodded with a smile.

“Glad to see you’re fit for combat,” Thalia laid an armored hand on Richard’s shoulder, “and Cedar, I owe you my gratitude.”

“Nah,” Detective Douchebag replied, “you set me up for the shot, so save the gratitude and let’s call it a team effort, yeah?”

Thalia smiled at the blonde in response, and Blossom watched as both boys flushed red. Particularly Richard, whose ears were the color of tomatoes at the tip. So, that’s how it was, huh? Blossom smirked. Boys were so predictable; all it took was a pretty blonde smiling their way, and they were hooked. Usually, Blossom would have teased them, or downright embarrassed them for a little fun, but she figured it wasn’t the time. So she tucked that little fact away for later, and approached the group.

Thalia turned her smile toward her, “so, Dust huh?”

“A normal bat would have been boring,” Blossom met her with a smirk.

“You build that thing?” It was Richard’s turn to talk.

“No, she definitely stole it,” came Cedar.

“Out of police lockup, no less,” Blossom spoke, and smiled as Cedar blanched.

It was a little white lie. She’d actually snatched it from a gangster a few years back, but Cedar was a prick, and the outraged look on his face felt like a victory party.

“What? How did you? Dude! It’s one thing to steal, but to steal from-”

Thalia stopped the argument short by placing a hand on Cedar’s shoulder.

“Later. Sort this out later. We’re not far from Vale.”

The knight left it at that, but the frown on her face told Blossom that she wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear about how she’d come across her weapon. Oh well. Blossom didn’t take much stock in the opinions of others, with the single exception of her mother. Life was better that way; you avoided the bullshit expectations of others, which was always a plus.

Thalia turned to lead them to Vale once more, and Cedar sidled alongside her. Blossom found Richard walking next to her once more, hands tucked in his pocket, with a bored expression on his face.

Blossom really didn’t know what to make of him, other than the fact that she actually probably couldn’t take him in a fight. With the others it was easy: Thalia was calm, kind, and direct. Cedar was a total douchebag, but one with an easy going charisma even she couldn’t deny. All she could gleam from Richard, however, is that he was quiet and a little sarcastic. That, and he asked about things that weren’t his business. Which was a little annoying.

“So, did you steal the Dust too? Or…”

Maybe she’d steal his wallet.


	4. Breach

The crack of gunfire filled Volgar’s ears, and the stock of his rifle bumped his plated shoulder. Two hundred yards from the window he was firing out of, he watched an Ursa’s head explode. Yet, it seemed two more took its place near instantly. With a small click, his rifle cycled another round, and Volgar found himself looking for yet another target. He found it in a Beowolf who was coming closer to the hull of the downed airship than he liked, and the cycle continued as he popped its head too.

He’d been going on like this for nearly an hour. After their ride had slammed down into the Forever Fall Forest, some girl dressed in a red Mistrali tunic had rounded up the passengers and organized them into two separate firing squads. One of them took the starboard side, lining up at the windows to keep the Grimm at bay, while his own line held the port side. It was effective, and so far they’d kept any from breaching the airship. Still, Volgar knew it wouldn’t last forever. He was running low on ammo, and there was no way he was the only one.

The organizer girl, Ashelyn he thought her name was, said she’d sent out a small team to try and make it back to Vale. It was a good plan, especially if they could sneak past the Grimm, but Volgar had no idea how far from the city they were. An hour on foot? More? Hell, he had no idea what business the airship had flying over the Forever Fall in the first place. The whole situation was going to shit, and the anxiety rolling off of the rest of the crew wouldn’t help matters.

Volgar had debated using his Semblance; thought about using it to inspire confidence in his fellow students, but he knew it wouldn’t work on a group this large. Or one this spread out. It was better suited to affecting small groups, and there were at least a hundred students onboard. That wasn’t exactly a miniscule amount. So, as much as he would have liked to employ it, it simply wasn’t going to happen here.

They couldn’t exactly leave the ship either. Even before the Grimm had started coming out of the woodworks, almost literally, trying to press through the thicket of the forest with a hundred or so panicking teenagers was a death sentence. That much negativity, in one place, was exactly why they were trapped inside a broken metal brick. Volgar didn’t want to imagine what would have happened without their shelter to protect them.

No matter which way he looked at it, they were screwed in the long run. Either they’d run out of ammo and get mauled, or they’d have to flee the ship and get mauled. Right now, holding the Grimm off at range seemed the better option. It would at least buy them time until help would arrive. Hopefully.

It was then, that everything started to go South. Clunks sounded in the hull, below them, followed by inhuman roars. Volgar froze, and glanced at the stairs down to the cargo bay. A moment later, two students came running up, both bloodied and in a frenzied panic. It was obvious that the Grimm had finally breached the hull.

“You! With me!” Someone jabbed at his shoulder, and a red flash sprinted past him.

A curved broadsword, and long black hair tied back in a ponytail revealed her to be the Mistrali girl, Ashelyn. He didn’t bother to question where she was going, or why, both were quite obvious to him. So, he grabbed his spear-rifle in his left hand, picked up the handaxe he had detached from it in his right, and followed her as she made her way to the stairs. They descended two steps at a time, at a near breakneck pace, and it was probably a good thing that they were moving so quick.

When the cargo bay came into view, at the bottom of the stairs, Volgar was nearly stopped cold at the sight. Nearly a dozen Grimm had busted through the cracked metal, and he counted Ursa and Beowolves among them. The two of them couldn’t take down the whole pack, but at this point, they didn’t have much of a choice but to try.

“WE NEED PEOPLE DOWN HERE, NOW!” Volgar bellowed upstairs, as loud as his voice could project.

Then, he sprinted into battle, close on Ashelyn’s heel. He charged the closest monster to him, an Ursa, and tightened his grip around his spear. It roared and reared up as he came near, foolishly exposing its underbelly to him. With a sharp thrust, Volgar buried his spear in its gut, and his momentum combined with his strength forced it to topple to the ground. It wasn’t dead yet, but Volgar didn’t have the luxury of giving it a chance to get back up. He pulled the trigger on his spear, and blew a new cavity into its chest. 

As he felt the Ursa go still, Volgar spun, ripping his spear from its chest. A Beowolf was quickly rounding on him, but he didn’t give it a chance to get close. He threw his axe at it, and it arced furiously through the air, until it split right through the Beowolf’s jaw. The beast flopped backward with his weapon firmly lodged in its skull. He didn’t have the time to go and reclaim the lost weapon, so he took his spear into his right hand, and used his left to pull his circular shield off of his back. It snapped into place on his left bracer, anchored by an electromagnet.

A second Beowolf lunged at him, and Volgar brought his left arm up. Its weight collided with his shield, and its claws scraped over the metal. He jabbed with his spear, impaling the Grimm, before ripping it free and clobbering it across the jaw with his shield. It stumbled away from him, and Volgar merely pointed the barrel of his spear-rifle in its direction, before pulling the trigger. It went down with a thump.

With three Grimm down in a few seconds, Volgar chanced a look at Ashelyn, and found himself amazed with what he saw.

Armed with only her curved broadsword, the young swordswoman cut a bloody swathe through the Grimm assailing them. Four beasts littered the ground behind her: Beowolves, all with clean cuts through the abdomen. An Ursa approached her from the front, and Volgar could barely follow her sword as she cut its legs out from under it, and then delivered a swift killing blow across the throat before it had even hit the ground. Without so much as a breath, she moved onto the next foe in front of her.

Volgar didn’t have a chance to watch her though, as yet another beast bellowed at him. One of the ursine Grimm descended upon him. Volgar braced his shield, but before the beast could throw itself at him, it was propelled back by a gunshot. Not his. He took a glance to his right, catching sight of a dark skinned woman in a full suit of strange blue armor he’d never seen before. She held a glaive in her hand, and a wide barrel under the blade was smoking.

“She’s pretty amazing, huh,” the girl winked at him, “but maybe keep your attention on the bloodthirsty monsters.”

Then she was off, speeding toward another of the evil creatures, leaving him to refocus himself on the fight once more.

As it turned out, that wasn’t too difficult. The Grimm just kept coming, pooling through the small breaks in the walls. They fought for what could have only been five minutes, but felt like an hour. At some point, a familiar figure joined them, cutting down Grimm with a large zweihander. His ever present auburn shadow. Volgar smiled, knowing that with Burgundy Umberleigh around, he didn’t need to worry about something attacking him from behind. Confident and inspired by his fellow warriors, Volgar threw himself into the familiar fury of battle.

Finally, there was a lull in combat. As Volgar dispatched a Beowulf in front of him, with a spear through the neck, he saw Ashelyn cut down her final Ursa out of the corner of his eye. As the last two bodies fell to the metal deck below them, their surroundings went quiet, except for the continued echoes of gunfire upstairs. The four of them made to meet in the middle, stepping over the disintegrating bodies. Everyone was a little out of breath, but at least no one seemed worse for wear. That being said, Ashelyn’s skin did seem to be oddly flushed. As Volgar came to stand near her side, he could have sworn that the temperature increased by a few degrees as well.

He might have questioned it, but was more interested in the fourth addition to their little group. 

Volgar looked at Burgundy: pale skin with a smattering of freckles across her nose, golden eyes, and ginger hair topped with fox ears of the same color. Dressed in her usual attire of a musketeer’s hat, a simple white blouse under a battle scarred plated cuirass, and a green skirt under armored plate tassets, Volgar found her as breathtaking as ever.

She flashed him a small smile. He gave her a wink.

“Ashelyn, we can’t last like this,” the girl in the odd blue armor spoke, “every Grimm in the forest has to know we’re here.”

“I know Bailey,” Ashelyn responded, “But all we can do is hold out until help arrives.”

“Does anyone know we need help?” Burgundy spoke in a quiet voice.

“I sent a small party back to Vale. Once they get to the city, they’ll get us the help we need,” Ashelyn spoke again.

“Do you think they’ll make it?” It was Volgar’s turn to speak.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Bailey answered for him, “Richard’s with them.”

“Who?” Apparently that name was supposed to mean something.

“My brother,” Ashelyn clarified, “a talented swordsman.”

“If he’s half as good as you…” Volgar trailed off.

“They’ll be fine,” Bailey reaffirmed, “but, we need to focus on us. Ashelyn, we’re nearly out of ammo.”

Volgar grimaced. He knew it had only been a matter of time before their guns ran dry, after all, he’d been low on bullets himself. That posed a serious problem: they’d only held out against the Grimm as long as they had because they were defending from an elevated position, suited to ranged fire. Now, they were going to be fighting in melee combat, where the monsters actually had a chance of fighting back, on a very crowded ship. They needed a new plan.

Of course, that was when things went wrong again. With an ear shattering creak, something long and white pierced right through the metal of the hull. Volgar watched in astonishment as whatever was outside ripped a hole clean through the wall, filtering in sunlight. A black mass, larger than the newly made opening, pushed its way into the cargo bay. Chills ran down his spine as he got a good look at the new Grimm in front of them.

At eight feet tall, and a width even greater than an Ursa’s, it walked on four limbs. Thick paws thumped across the deck, ending in long and sharp claws. A long tail flicked out behind it, covered in bone plates, but ending with a pointed tip. Upon broad, armored, shoulders rested a thick neck, which appeared to be the only spot on its body not protected by bone. Yet, the most fearsome aspect of it was the head; a feline face, resembling a tiger, with serrated canine teeth as long as his forearm. It growled long and low as it stalked toward them, eyeing them like meat.

“A Razortooth,” Bailey spoke in a very quiet voice.

Volgar wasn’t an expert on Grimm, or their habitats, but he was pretty sure big cats weren’t usually native to deciduous forests. More than that, though, he’d never seen a Grimm of this size near the major cities of the Kingdoms. For it to come so close to Vale… Well, they must have been an even larger nest of negativity than he’d thought. 

And, if they attracted one Grimm of this caliber, were there more on the way? He didn’t want to think about it, and honestly, he didn’t have time. Not with this mighty beast in front of him.

The Razortooth began to circle them, lowering itself to the ground, looking for an opening to pounce. Volgar quickly reattached his axe to his spear, converting it back to its full form of a halberd-rifle. He then raised his shield, and began to match the Grimm’s footsteps, always keeping himself between it and the others. Burgundy, well acquainted with his fighting style, rested her massive sword on her left shoulder, and placed herself just behind his shield arm. His other two companions picked up on what they were doing, and kept themselves a few feet behind him, weapons at the ready.

With a roar, the Razortooth charged, and the fight began anew.


End file.
